


Us & Ourselves

by yours_eternally



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Choking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28913898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: And besides, he’s had a few days to think (and jerk off) about it, and he had some plans that involve his bandmate and someactualprivacy.Chris wants to give Ricky what he wants, but he doesn't want to rush and risk making a mistake.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 22





	Us & Ourselves

Chris can feel Ricky’s hand hot on his wrist. They’re alone — unusual before a show — so they’re taking full advantage. The venue had turned out to be a warren of rooms and had exactly two mirrors so they’d split up to get ready; Ricky dragging him determinedly by the sleeve. 

Ricky’s moaning into their kiss, hips ticking up and down on the thigh Chris has between his. Chris has him backed right up against the door, one hand on the back of Ricky’s thigh, pulling him closer into him. He can feel Ricky’s cock burning through his jeans. His other hand is on Ricky’s throat, tight under his jaw.

Chris pulls back from his mouth to check him: rasping a little but he’s fine. Ricky mumbles against his lips as Chris kisses him again. He can feel Ricky’s hands, both of them, covering his own and pressing. He can feel that too long pause in his breathing as Ricky's hips twitch up into his. Chris feels a familiar twist of heat through his gut. But it’s shot through with ice. He doesn’t like how much white there is around Ricky’s pupils. And their set is less than an hour from now. 

Chris pulls back a little but Ricky makes a tight desperate noise, hands clamped over Chris’, eyelashes flickering. Chris moves off him completely, pulling Ricky’s hands away from his neck as well. Ricky blinks at him, gasping as he steadies himself against the door. He’s flushed and frustrated; the skin on his throat is red from the pressure. His hair is falling in his face and he’s already smeared black all around his eyes. He looks how he does in Chris’ deepest, darkest fantasies but Chris isn’t going to give him what he wants. 

He’s  _ not _ .

Chris takes himself to the other side of the room (less than three foot) and grips the tiny sink that’s marooned in the middle of the dressing room wall for some reason. 

‘What’s wrong?’ Ricky asks his back. 

‘Nothing,’ Chris says, shrugging one shoulder, closing his hands on the sink to stop them shaking. ‘I don’t want to… do it too much, by mistake.’ 

‘Oh,’ Ricky says, sighing out understanding and coming over to loop his arms around Chris’ waist, cheek against his back, ‘it’s fine— even if I  _ did _ go under for a bit, I'd be fine by the show anyway.’ Chris huffs, letting Ricky hug him.

‘No, you’d be fucked up for the show,’ Chris says, turning so he can rest his chin on the top of Ricky’s head, ‘every time we rush I fuck it up and you end up all dopey, or we have to go to the ER.’ 

That had been the longest night of Chris’ life; only to have Ricky stroll back into the waiting area, rolling his eyes and waving a prescription for aspirin. But they’re both older now, and more careful. And Chris knows Ricky too well. 

‘That was once, and it was six  _ years _ ago,’ Ricky says, unlocking his arms from Chris’ middle and moving around him to the mirror, ‘—and I was __ fine.’ 

‘I thought I’d given you brain damage, Rick,’ Chris huffs, folding his arms around himself, missing Ricky’s body heat. 

‘I was fine,’ Ricky repeats firmly, picking through his bag for his browliner, ‘and I  _ am _ fine.’ He straightens with the pencil in hand but then turns back to him, and Chris realises Ricky must have spotted him curled in on himself in the mirror. 

‘You wanna do this?’ he asks, pencil bouncing on his lip. A peace offering. 

‘Sure,’ Chris says, relaxing a bit as Ricky allows him to take the pencil off him and start gently tracing along his brow. He puts his other hand on Ricky’s chest, fingertips touching lightly between his collarbones, to feel the soothing rhythm of his pulse. Ricky doesn’t speak but leans into his hand. 

There’s a knock on the door behind them, that stirs them both from their thoughts, and Ryan sticks his head around the jam, asking if they’re done getting ready yet. 

x

Chris watches as Ricky sets his bag at the foot of his bed and disappears into the bathroom. It’s late. They’d driven a couple of hours after the show to get to the hotel but Chris doesn’t care. He’d take a couple of hours in real bed to a whole night in the bunks. And besides, he’s had a few days to think (and jerk off) about it, and he had some plans that involve his bandmate and some  _ actual _ privacy. 

He sits on the bed, pulling his boots off, waiting. He feels like his brain has been working overtime during the set that evening. The phantom sensation of the tendons in Ricky’s throat moving under his hand are yet to dissipate although he hadn’t had a hand on him in days. He takes a breath, trying to calm down. He needs to be calm. He needs to be measured and in control. He lets his head and hands hang, forearms rested on his thighs. 

‘We can do some stuff if you want,’ he says when Ricky comes back into the room. 

‘Oh?’ Ricky says. Chris' words had stopped him in his tracks, half between the bed and the bathroom door. 

‘What kind of  _ stuff _ ?’ he says, peering at Chris. 

‘Anything you want,’ Chris says, shrugging and trying to act like he hasn’t been fantasising about what exactly he wants to do to Ricky for days. 

‘Anything?’ He asks, frowning at Chris, ‘are you sure you want to? You were upset the other day. I’m not mad at you.’ 

‘No, I want to,’ Chris informs his hands, but then forces himself to look up at Ricky, ‘I’ve been thinking about it — a lot actually — and we’ve got time now.’ 

‘Oh,’ Ricky says again but this time his voice is curled with amusement, ‘— _ we got time now _ , is that it? So this is why you wanted me to keep my make-up on.’

Chris flushes, hands twisting together, embarrassed to be so transparent. Ricky comes over to him and Chris sits back to let Ricky sit in his lap, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. Ricky kisses him, hands in his hair. His mouth tastes acidic and Chris knows it’s the aftertaste of the half glass of wine he’d shared with Ryan on the bus. He doesn’t hate it, considering he doesn’t drink.

Ricky cups his face kisses him deeper, hips starting to roll under his hands. Their mouths break apart and Chris pulls Ricky closer against him, pressing face into Ricky’s chest, absorbing the heat in his limbs. Ricky strokes his hair, over his shoulders and down his back. Chris takes another breath of him before loosening his arms. 

He leans back enough to see Ricky’s face. He’s sort of smiling; eyes gleaming. Looking at him, Chris feels like there’s something too hot to touch and too bright to look at lodged right at the centre of his chest. 

‘Hey,’ Ricky says softly, tucking his hair back. Chris grins, feeling self-conscious. ‘So what  _ stuff _ have you been thinking about?’ Ricky lets his fingertips stroke up his own chest, still sat in Chris’ lap, to trace over the ink on his throat. 

‘Yeah,’ Chris murmurs, following the path of his hand with one of his own. ‘That. And… more than that.’

‘More?’ Ricky asks, lifting his chin letting him feel for the right place. 

‘Like,’ Chris takes a breath, ‘if I did it until you were unconscious for a couple of seconds. Would that, would you be okay with that?’ Chris feels like his entire body is tingling now he’s actually said the words. His fingertips curl on Ricky’s hips. 

‘Hmm,’ Ricky says, starting to rock his hips, ‘yeah, that would be okay. Your phone’s charged?’ Chris nods. Ricky nods too, into his palm and Chris starts to press lightly, his other hand stroking up Ricky’s thigh. Ricky makes a soft noise and Chris pulls him in to kiss. 

Ricky kisses him back, hands pulling at his waist wanting to be closer. Chris puts both arms around him and squeezes as hard as he can making Ricky squeak and laugh. He wriggles his arms around Chris’ neck instead, so they’re not twisted up between their bodies. Chris hugs him tight again, pressing his face into his neck. Ricky shifts then snaps his fingers next to Chris' ear and Chris quickly lets him go. 

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles, completely loosening his arms around Ricky. Ricky sucks his lips eyes flicking between Chris’. 

‘Can we do it, like, with you behind me? I think it’s just going to fuck up my ribs otherwise.’ 

‘Sure,’ Chris says, and Ricky gets up off him. Chris pulls off his sweater with shaking hands. He removes his socks too, for some reason he’s not sure of, because as soon as Ricky said he was down Chris’ body shot so much adrenaline into his bloodstream it’s all he can do not to start laughing hysterically. When he’s in his t-shirt and sweats he shuffles back to sit cross-legged in the centre of the mattress. 

Ricky pulls off his hoodie and gets on the bed, crawling across it towards him. Chris kisses his lips once more and then lets Ricky turn in his arms until his back’s against his chest. He hugs Ricky into him, head tucking into the space between his shoulder and his neck. Ricky hums softly, leaning back into him. 

Chris relaxes his grip and Ricky lets him rearrange them until Ricky’s sitting between his legs, back close against his stomach, and his throat is settled tight in the crook of Chris’ elbow. 

‘Okay?’ he says. 

‘Yeah,’ Ricky says and Chris can feel the huff of breath as he chuckles across the skin of his arm. 

‘I…’ Chris starts, lips brushing Ricky’s cheek, but he can’t say it. It feels ill-omened; too final. ‘—you know, right?’

‘I know,’ Ricky murmurs and Chris kisses his cheek. Then he tenses his bicep, using his hand to grip tight on the upper part of his opposite arm, his other hand pushing on the back of Ricky’s head keeping him in place. Ricky doesn’t struggle but Chris can feel his body going taut, resisting. Chris counts. He can imagine Ricky’s amygdala lit up like a flare in the night sky. 

Ricky softens. And Chris can feel the thrill of what he’s done spark lightning through his limbs, prickling across his palms and feet, and arching up his spine. When Chris relaxes his grip Ricky flops, light and limp in his arms as he lays him at the foot of the bed. His hair’s almost covering his face. 

Chris is shaking so badly as he bends to press his mouth to Ricky’s. Then Ricky shifts, moaning, and taking a gasping breath and Chris feels like a god that’s just breathed life into clay. He’s achingly hard and reeling with the heady rush of it, bending to kiss Ricky again, hugging and stroking him, pressing kisses all over his face. 

‘Chris?  _ Christ _ — red,  _ red _ , get off,’ Ricky slurs, pushing clumsily at Chris’ chest. Chris backs off him but doesn't get off the bed like he’s supposed to. Ricky’s still laid out on his back, eyes unfocused on the ceiling as he pants his breath back. He turns his head a little to look at Chris then gestures for him and Chris lays down next to him, feet hanging off the mattress. 

‘How do you feel?’ Chris asks, stroking his thumb over his cheek smudging the fallout from his make-up. 

‘Good,’ Ricky says, his eyes settling to focus on Chris’ face. Chris can see his mouth curving and when he puts a hand between Ricky’s thighs he’s hard. Ricky makes a soft noise and Chris gets a hand inside his sweats and into his underwear. He takes a hold of his cock as he draws Ricky into him. Ricky nuzzles, pressing his face into his chest, still giving small hiccuping breaths. 

Chris strokes him, letting his other arm wrap around his back. Ricky moans, pressing closer and Chris smooths his hair. Ricky moans again. Chris can feel him tense and come, muffling his mouth against Chris’ chest as he moans deep in his chest. It’s always quick after he’s been out. Chris takes his hand away gently. 

Ricky rolls onto his back. As Chris watches his eyelashes flicker again, then his eyes move back to his face. Chris sits up, to lean over him and brush his hair back. 

Ricky lifts a hand to touch Chris’ face, tracing down his cheek and into the V of his collarbones. Chris grins. Ricky’s hand slides down his chest to his stomach onto his thigh but Chris covers his hand; stopping him. 

‘Hm?’ Ricky asks.

‘Can I lie on you?’ Chris says and Ricky nods, wriggling down his sweats and underwear as Chris moves over his pulling his t-shirt up; wanting to feel Ricky’s skin against his cock. He settles on top of him but leans up on his elbows keeping most of his weight off him, letting his cock stroke against Ricky’s stomach.

Ricky mumbles pressing up into him, kissing his neck as Chris starts to flex his hips. He’s oversensitive and the light drag of skin on skin is making his eyes roll back in his skull. Chris puts all his weight on one arm, so he can stroke his other hand down Ricky’s ribs to hold his hip. Chris thrusts become faster and more erratic. He’s already twisted up so tight from everything they’ve done already, it only takes Ricky’s tongue tracing up the line of his throat for him to gasp, the orgasm taking him so suddenly the starbursts behind his eyes almost whiteout his vision. 

He forces himself to drop on his back; off Ricky. He sucks in air, feeling like he’s surfacing from a deep dive. He strokes Ricky’s hair back, wondering how every time they do this it feels both the same and totally different. 

Ricky sits up, hair falling over his face. Chris feels his pulse kick and has to take a moment to reassure himself that Ricky's fine. 

‘What does it feel like?’ He asks and Ricky turns to look at him. His dark hair falls over his shoulder like spilled ink. His eyes are inky too, long black streaks down his cheeks. He’s smiling, and Chris loves him; deep and dark and inky loves him. 

‘Not like something else,’ he says with a shrug, grinning, and Chris laughs. 

**Author's Note:**

> Some soothing cricky after the week we've had 💖 ..I appreciate it's choking but they love each other 😭
> 
> [xyours-eternallyx](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xyours-eternallyx) on tumblr 🙌


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